


Stop, Wait, Go

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff, Pining, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3601461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic for this prompt I received on tumblr: 'MaliaxLydia with maybe something in college? idk pining would be awesome too'.  </p>
<p>Lydia Martin is an adorable, beautiful, unashamed nerd and Malia is ass over elbows in love with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop, Wait, Go

“She’s so beautiful.”

Kira looked over at what – or rather, who – Malia was gazing at. She wasn’t surprised to see Lydia Martin. She was sat alone on one of the picnic tables along the edge of the grass, books in front of her and a fluffy pink pen in her hand. She twirled a curl of red hair around one finger, lips pursed as she focused, and Malia sighed softly. 

“She’s pretty,” Kira agreed, nodding.

Malia shook her head. No, Lydia Martin wasn’t just _pretty_. She was beautiful. From the ginger curls to the red lipstick, down to her floral blouse, short skirt and cute heels, she was gorgeous. 

And she was a nerd. Not just any kind of nerd, a _math_ nerd. She was the cutest math nerd and she was the most vocal student in their Gender and Sexuality Studies class and she was _terrifying_ but she was also witty and sarcastic and – and _cute_. The way she clutched her books to her chest and toyed with her hair or chewed the tip of her pen when she was concentrating, the way she laughed, tossing her hair back, whole face lighting up with it. The way she tilted her head and smiled, sometimes shy, sometimes daring, and sometimes dangerous. She was a freaking beautiful _genius_ and Malia...Malia was ass over elbows for her. 

She was also probably the one person Lydia Martin _never_ noticed.

When Malia expressed as much out loud, Kira shrugged and offered, “You’ve probably got a better chance than Stiles, at least.”

Malia wrinkled her nose and picked some grass, flicking it at Kira. “You know I hate it when you’re all sweet and supportive,” she joked and they shared a smile. She looked down at her own worn Converse, shredding grass over her bare knees. “She talks to Stilinksi at least.”

“They’re friends,” Kira pointed out. “She doesn’t have feelings for him.”

“But at least she _notices_ him.”

She flopped back on the grass, squinting in the sun. It was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny and half the student population were out on the grass enjoying the rare nice weather; study groups in circles getting work done, friends hanging out with fruity summer drinks, there was some dude with long, braided hair playing guitar under a tree with a few groupies listening and one girl scowling at her laptop and stabbing at the keys, a can of Coke balanced precariously on her knee. 

“Have you tried talking to her?” Kira pointed out.

Malia huffed. “Yes,” she replied. “In class and stuff.”

“Have you tried talking to her _outside_ of class?” The voice didn’t belong to Kira and Malia sat up as Cora dropped her bag to the grass, the muffled sound of something inside breaking following. The brunette flopped down next to it.

Malia looked back over to Lydia. Allison Argent was at the table now, sharing a bright smile with her best friend as she dropped her books down and sat gracefully on the seat opposite Lydia, crossing her legs. Malia heard Cora sigh and rolled her eyes, but she kind of got it, too – Allison was lovely. Kind, sweet, funny, with a smile full of dimples, but she was also strong and fierce and Malia thought her and Cora were a good match. 

“No,” Malia replied. “I tried talking to her in our gender and sexuality class the other day. Did you know she’s in that class with me?”

“Yes,” Kira said, a touch exasperated. “I know she’s in that class. _I’m_ in that class.”

She blinked. “You are?”

“I sit right behind you!”

It was in that class that Malia had first seen Lydia. She’d walked in, all perfect curls and heels and Malia had been kind of impressed that she actually wore heels to class and around campus. She’d almost dismissed her, but then some asshole went on some rant about the fragility of female ego. Lydia had politely put her hand up until she was called on – and then she fucking _destroyed_ him. 

Malia learned that Lydia was smart. Really smart. She was amazing at math and science, she taught herself Archaic Latin for _fun_ , and she read, like, all the time. She was an unashamed nerd and Malia loved that. She loved when she spoke in that class because she was fierce and unwavering. It was when she got up and gave a whole lecture on feminism in science and technology that Malia was pretty sure she was in love with the redhead.

She just never...actually, really spoke to her. 

“You know that traffic light party?” she said after a moment.

Kira smiled, nodding, getting a kind of dreamy, shy expression on her face. She was going with Scott and they were both going to wear red from top to toe to show the strength of their ‘ _like_ like’ for each other. 

“I was gonna invite Lydia.”

Cora raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure she’s probably already going. Pretty much _everyone_ is going,” she pointed out. “And nobody invites people to college parties. You just kinda show up.”

“I’d invite her to go with me,” Malia defended, “And I could suggest we both wear red. It’s smooth, okay?”

Cora and Kira shared a look, then shook their heads in unison. “No.”

She huffed, flopping onto her back. “You guys suck.”

\--------------------------------------

She was going to ask Lydia to the party.

She _was_.

She just...had to find the right time. 

It’s not like she could just go up to Lydia and blurt it out. It had to be smooth and casual, not desperate. And it had to be just them. Getting rejected in front of a crowd would be a bite in the ass. 

Except, she wasn’t really in Lydia’s social circle, like, at _all_. She couldn’t just walk up to her in the library or something, they’d never even had a proper conversation, and she didn’t want to try and grab her after class in case it seemed weird.

Every time she thought she’d worked up the nerve, she hesitated too long and ended up watching the other girl walk away. After the third time, she groaned in frustration, burying her head in her hands.

“I’m gonna do this,” she muttered to herself. “I’m gonna ask her out.”

“You’re gonna ask her out.”

She raised her head, looking at the blonde girl still packing her things away. She shrugged, slinging her backpack over one shoulder and offering her a thumbs up. “I believe in you?” 

Malia pushed herself up, grabbing her bag and hurrying from the room. Riding on a burst of frustration and the belief of a total stranger, she headed to the library. 

_I’m gonna ask her out_ , she repeated like a mantra, _I got this. I can do this. The worst that can happen is having my heart brutally and publicly ripped out by a redheaded brainiac of a goddess_ –

“So, er, I was thinking, you should go to that traffic light party. With...me. And we should wear red.”

Malia skidded to a stop, gaping at the guy stood in front of the table Lydia was sat at. He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets and he swung his head slightly to get floppy blond hair out of his eyes, emitting a kind of confidence Malia was pretty sure he didn’t actually feel.

“ _Son of a bitch_ ,” she muttered.

She’d been too late. Literally _one minute_ too late. And some jerk had sauntered in and asked Lydia already...and used _her_ line. Asshole.

She glared at the back of his head, not really aware of what either of them were saying, just feeling really annoyed, mostly at herself for being a coward and leaving it too long.

She didn’t really realize that he’d walked away until Lydia met Malia’s gaze, cocking her head slightly. When Malia just kind of stood there, one eyebrow rose and the other girl smiled slightly. 

“Do you need something?”

Malia blinked, frozen to the spot. Lydia Martin was talking to her. And she was...being creepy. And embarrassing herself.

“I...er...” she cast a desperate look over the table and pointed at a random book. “Are you done with that?”

Lydia’s smile turned a little bemused. “There’s a shelf of them over there,” she pointed, “In the ‘F’ section?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Malia backed up, gripping the strap of her backpack tightly, feeling vaguely sick. “Yeah, of course. I, um. Forgot. About ‘F’.”

“Easily done,” Lydia replied dryly, looking back at her laptop with a smirk. “I’ll see you in class, Malia.”

Malia nodded quickly, “Yep, sure, yeah,” and then she turned and fled, making sure to grab the same lime green book from the ‘F’ shelf that Lydia had, so her lie wasn’t _totally_ transparent. 

It wasn’t until she was power walking out of the library doors that she realized Lydia knew she was in her class. And she knew her _name_. 

She practically bounced after that, a grin taking over, until she glanced down to actually see what the book was.

It was a textbook on advanced French. 

She didn’t even _speak_ French. 

“ _Merde_.”

\--------------------------

“She knows my name.”

Cora didn’t look up from her phone as Malia barrelled into their room, feeling on top of the world. “Aren’t you friends on Facebook?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think she actually _knew_ who I am. She has, like, twelve hundred friends on Facebook.”

“Who has twelve hundred fucking friends?” Cora looked up then. 

“Lydia Martin. Beautiful, brilliant Lydia Martin who knows my name.”

“Congratulations,” Cora drawled. “Did you ask her out, then?”

Malia dropped her bag next to her desk and jumped back on her bed, spread eagled and staring up at the ceiling. Her good mood deflated a little as she sighed.

“I was going to,” she replied.

Cora snorted. “Like you were going to yesterday? And the day before?”

Malia threw a cushion at her. “Shut _up_. I was _going_ to. This blonde girl gave me faith.”

Cora hummed, thumbs moving rapidly over the keys of her phone. “Naturally.”

“I was literally _just_ about to ask her out. And then this jerk gets there first. He asked her to the party. He used the _exact_ same line I was going to.”

"Did hearing someone else say it make you realize how lame it is?”

“Well...yeah,” Malia admitted.

“Thank goodness for small mercies.”

“ _Cora_ ,” Malia grabbed another cushion, this time pressing it over her face.

She heard Cora move, then felt the hesitant pat to her ankle. Her face scrunched up under the pillow. Cora trying to comfort someone was...awkward. She shared the same kind of hostile, awkward, shy personality with her older brother, Derek. Except Cora was kind of cold, whereas Derek was all warm and fuzzy underneath it all.

“This is weird,” she said.

“Really weird,” Cora agreed, retracting her hand, but Malia felt the bed dip as she sat next to her. “Look. Unattainable love sucks. It’s probably not gonna be the last time you experience it and trust me, literally all ten fucking million songs about heartbreak and one sided love will suddenly make deep, soul connecting sense to you. You’ll be obnoxious and mopey and pretentious for a couple of weeks, and then you’ll move on. I promise, it’s not the end of the world.”

Malia huffed. “It fucking feels like it.”

“Yep. But it isn’t.”

She moved the cushion down slightly, peering at Cora over the top of it. “You know, that was actually kind of wise. You have _wisdom_.”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“I kind of always assumed you were cold blooded. And, like, you need a heart to love.”

“Fuck you,” Cora replied, but there wasn’t any heat in it. “I know what love feels like.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Malia sighed.

“The party’s tomorrow,” she shrugged. “Be sad and heartbroken for a day. Then go to the party. Wear green, get drunk, have some fun. Maybe you’ll meet someone, maybe you won’t. But it’s a start. Eventually, you’ll move on. I promise.”

“She knows my name,” Malia said in a small voice.

“And tequila is the best way to forget hers.” 

Malia huffed. After a moment, Cora stood, but Malia caught her wrist gently. “Hey, thanks.”

Cora offered a shrug. “Yeah, whatever.” 

Malia lay back, listening to Cora’s indie music and the repetitive click of her typing. 

Forget Lydia’s name. Like it was _possible_.

\---------------------------

“Lydia _who_.”

Kira’s brow furrowed. “Lydia Martin? The girl you’ve been in love with for months?”

Malia gave her a flat, unimpressed look. “Thank you. I’d forgotten,” she replied dryly. 

Kira tilted her head, offering a sheepish shrug. “Personally, I think this forgetting all about her thing is dumb. You love her. It’s cute and romantic. You need to _woo_ her. Buy her flowers, leave her sweet notes, go stargazing with her...”

Malia stared at her in horror. “That sounds _hideous_.”

“You just don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

“She could have a romantic bone in her body tonight,” Cora said. “She’s wearing green.”

Malia flicked through her closet, suddenly painfully aware that she didn’t actually have a lot of green clothes in there. 

“Besides,” Cora added, “Isn’t that romantic, wooing shit all the stuff Scott did with you?”

Kira got that far away look again, smiling. “Yeah. And it worked.”

Malia shook her head. “I don’t think Lydia would be impressed by flowers and notes. I’ve seen people give her those things before. It’s...cheesy and meaningless.”

“It is _not_ ,” Kira shot back. “Not with the right person, anyway.”

Her shoulders slumped as she twisted a green cardigan in her hands. She wasn’t really a romantic person, she could admit that, though she did _try_ when she was in relationships.

But...she wanted to be that right person. 

She wanted to be Lydia’s right person.

“She’s moping again,” Cora said, giving Kira an accusing look and holding out a bottle of tequila.

“Gross, no.”

Cora offered a cup of cheap wine. Malia considered for a moment before shrugging and taking a sip. 

“Get dressed,” Cora said. “Get out there. Have fun. Maybe have some incredible, mind blowing sex with a hot guy or girl, come back at fuck o’clock in the morning when I’m trying to sleep and things will be better, okay?”

Malia nodded. She eventually chose a pair of tight high waisted shorts and a thin green sweater. She pulled on her boots, let Kira brush out her hair, and grabbed her bag, waving to Cora before she and Kira left.

“Are you meeting Scott there?” Malia asked, taking in Kira’s bright red top and skirt combination.

Kira nodded, smiling. “Uh huh. And then we’re going back to his.”

“Gross.”

Kira gave her a gentle push. “Shut up.”

The party was...underwhelming. It was in some senior’s shared apartment, with cheap alcohol, crappy traffic light decorations, and piss poor food (she had to gently steer an oblivious Kira away from the suspect brownies).

It was full, though, and by midnight, Malia had ensconced herself in the kitchen with a bottle of cheap wine, glaring as couples in red and couples in green started groping each other. 

“Cora’s a _liar_ ,” she said bitterly. This was _not_ helping. Watching people all loved up or sexed up while she leaned against the fridge and contemplated finishing the plate of misshapen cookies.

She eventually gave in, dunking a cookie in her cup of wine and taking a bite.

“Is that as disgusting as it looks?”

She startled, almost swiping the bottle of wine right off the counter. She turned, looking at Lydia, quickly wiping crumbs off her chin with the back of her hand.

“I...I don’t know. I think I’m buzzed enough to not care how it tastes.”

Lydia smiled. “I guess I’ll have to try for myself, then.” She grabbed a cookie, dunked it in Malia’s wine, and took a large bite, getting cookie crumbs stuck to her red lipgloss. She considered, nose scrunching for a second before she shrugged. “Not bad.”

_Collarbones should not be that sexy_. Malia tried not to stare, but Lydia was wearing a strapless black dress that showed off her neck and delicate shoulders, and tall heels that showed off her legs. It took her a second, though, to realize Lydia wasn’t wearing any red, orange _or_ green and she frowned, frustrated. 

“Are you single or not?” it came out like a harsh demand and she winced, immediately wanting to catch the words and drag them right back in her mouth.

Lydia tilted her head, one eyebrow arched, and oh god, why wouldn’t the floor just open up? 

After a second, the other girl held up her bag; a bright orange, expensive looking clutch. 

“Orange?” Malia said dumbly. 

Lydia raised both eyebrows this time. “Yes,” she replied slowly. “Orange.”

“No, I mean...I thought you and that guy were going to wear red?”

The redhead blinked, seemingly caught off guard, and then she laughed. “Wait, that guy in the library? I turned him down.”

“Oh,” Malia said, then, happier, “Oh.” She tried to push down her grin. “So...why orange?”

“Well, I was hoping someone might ask me to the party. But they didn’t. So then I figured if I wore orange, it might make them realize that I’m waiting for them to make a move already.”

Malia’s heart sank. “Oh,” she said, quieter. Of course. There was probably some beautiful guy or girl here, waiting for their chance to ask Lydia to dance, and they’d get to be her right person. 

“But apparently, they’re more oblivious than I thought,” Lydia continued and Malia blinked, tuning back into the conversation. “So I should probably make the move.” 

_Great. Giving her dating advice, just what I want to do_. “Well, if you think -.” 

Lips pressed against hers. 

Malia went still, hands held stiffly at her sides as her eyes widened. Lydia pulled back after a moment, tilting her head, and her smile was definitely her daring one. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Malia breathed. 

Lydia laughed. “Yes, _oh_. I think, considering how much you stare at me in class, it’s about time _one_ of us made a move.”

Malia refused to be embarrassed, instead cupping Lydia’s face and kissing her again. She closed her eyes, committing the feel of soft skin and hair tickling her arms and the sensation Lydia’s body pressed to hers to memory, nipping at the shorter girl’s lower lip. 

Lydia smiled, pressing a series of slower, sweeter kisses to her lips before pulling back. “We should get out of here.”

“Wait.” Malia grabbed two red party hats from the stack on the counter, placing one on Lydia’s head and one on her own, smiling.

Lydia laughed, shaking her head and kissed her again.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to fic on tumblr here: http://allisonsexual.tumblr.com/post/114424918829/maliaxlydia-with-maybe-something-in-college-idk
> 
> I am currently accepting prompts. For a full list of fandoms and ships I'm accepting prompts for, refer to this: http://allisonsexual.tumblr.com/post/114318573724/currently-accepting-prompts
> 
> Feel free to leave me a prompt here or on my tumblr: allisonsexual.tumblr.com :)


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